Came Back
by MRACR
Summary: Max was shot, supposedly killed, and the School took her body away for experiments. But is that what really happened? What if she was alive, returning to her flock, and only Fang can get her to remember why she really came back? OneshotFaxness


**_Howdy, y'all! Ok, so, yeah, I know I haven't updated on my DW or Zalle story in, like, 20-some days...but, uh...here's another oneshot! holds oneshot out with desperate grin Please don't hurt me! I will update...I hope. Besides, according to the reviews, I have, like, practically no one reading the Zalle story anyway. cowers from audience Ok, ok, I'll update both of them!! I promise! Just--give me time!! Uh, ahem, anyway, here's this Fax-filled oneshot about...well, you'll see. I wrote this up in like two hours just now 'cos I hadn't written in _days_ and was feeling guilty. Enjoy! AND review!_**

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**Came Back**

_There he is, up ahead—so peaceful, so sad; so unsuspecting. _Every instinct in me told me to attack.

No—not _every_ instinct. For some reason the desire was pushing through the prey-induced fog of my mind that I should run up to him and…_hug_ him? _Hug? What the…?_

_Hug, embrace, put your arms around: a gesture of love from friend or family or mate,_ the distant memory came. I wondered where I'd ever learned that. I certainly had no use for it. But I was stronger than any pitiful urge to _hug_.

The target was leaning against the tree still, apparently on watch. He was no match for my stealth. The other 4 targets—or was it 5? Something about a dog…?—were likely around somewhere, sleeping. It was the middle of the night, after all, and I'd been told they slept in the dark. I much preferred to sleep during the painfully bright day.

I'd been nocturnal for as long as I could remember, which actually wasn't very long. I'd been saved by scientists when I was shot in the head. They'd saved me, enhanced me. My family, they said, hadn't been as lucky as me, killed in their beds. I couldn't remember them anyway, so what did it matter to me?

I owed a debt of gratitude to the scientists, and the instinct to kill was ever-present. So after months of rigorous training—_they _called it rigorous, _I _called it boring—they gave me an objective.

I, #410, was to find this pathetic group of so-called "bird-kids" and destroy them. No help, just me. Sure, I had wings. But unlike these wimpy bird-kids, I had strong, beautiful, capable wings. Theirs were much smaller than mine. I'd seen pictures. And of course they didn't have the same smelling and hunting abilities. Pathetic.

_And the dark, brooding one is right there, ready for the taking_, I thought smugly. I was unclear on the details of his depression—all of theirs, actually. A friend, the sixth member of their group, had been killed, I think. Or just died. They had a strong sense of dependence on one another. That too made them weak, unsuitable. _I _was the future of the human race, not they.

I was only a few feet away from him now, the main target, as swathed in moonlight as he was shadowed by the thick leaves. As I took another silent step, I had an involuntary thought.

_Fang!_

_Yes,_ I thought back. _I have several fangs. What's so amazing about that?_ Well, apart from the fact that the failures didn't have any.

I failed to answer myself, thankfully, so I ignored the outburst. Going insane would only get in the way of things and lead to my extermination. I firmly decided not to.

Another small, soundless step. Another, another. The faintly cool breeze blew the dejected scent of the boy to me and I breathed it eagerly. Too eagerly, it would seem.

The nearly inaudible _snap_ of a twig, but not from my own feet, and then I was pressed against the same tree I was creeping up to.

Shocked, I could only stand, frozen, trapped, employing the collected, quick observation that had always been with me.

In a split second, I thought, _Improvise. They weren't supposed to be this strong, but he is. Improvise. Distraction, then defeat, would be the best option. Keep him quiet, no need to alert the others._

"If you thought you could sneak up on me that easy, then you must be—" the dark—_Fang!—_boy's calmly snide words cut off as his grip on my shoulders froze, his whole body solidly tense, down to the half-extended, black wings at his back.

A thick silence descended as I waited in slight puzzlement for him to continue. His wings were _not_ as tiny as I recalled in the pictures. They were—his were, _bigger_ than mine? How could that be? His thin-but-strong build should have been more thin and less strong. I wasn't entirely sure I could beat—_Fang—_if it came down to it.

The breeze blew a bit harder and the moon came back through, making his features clearer. Shock, that was the strongest emotion emanating from him. Uncertainty too.

His slightly wide, dark eyes stared almost hungrily into my own.

"Max," he whispered, so softly even I almost didn't catch it. Who was Max?

_Maximum,_ came a random thought.

_Jeez, cut that out already!_ I mentally shouted, keeping my face frozen in blank, tense readiness.

It didn't. _Fang,_ was the next thing it said. Again. I was getting really sick of that. Couldn't I at least think something new if I was going to think random thoughts?

With an I-must-be-dreaming-but-it's-turning-into-a-nightmare-because-she's-not-answering look in his eyes, the boy—I winced and waited for the word "fang" but it didn't come—slowly leaned down closer, his scent producing, instead of the usual hyper-aware prey-sense, a shiver down my spine.

It didn't seem to be so much his scent as his hot breath on my skin. Again the desire to hug him, hold him, cry—_cry?_

_Me crying? I do _not_ cry. Ever._

"Max," he said again, even softer if that was possible. It was practically a plea this time. He sounded so…forlorn.

Ok, time for distraction. And not just so I could escape. The whole Max thing was starting to unnerve me.

I _meant _to say, menacingly, "Step away or I will have my squad kill your sleeping 'flock' _right_ now." I didn't have a squad, of course, but he didn't know that.

Instead what came out was a faintly bewildered, "Max?" and my eyes glazed over, trees and moonlight blurring together, though I was acutely aware of the bo—_Fang's—_gaze still on me.

My eyes tried to drift shut but I forced them to stay open, at least for now. This went against everything I was taught, everything I knew! I should have killed them all by now, reported back to my School—

The thought of that name repulsed me. _Why? It's where I grew up after all._

Wait, no, I'd been taken there once my family was killed—right? I hadn't _grew up there and been tortured, finally to escape with my family, chased by _them_ all our lives._

Crap. I _was_ going crazy. Good-bye life…but Fang would probably kill me now anyway.

"Max," he said more intensely, spurred on by my answer, or was it a question…I couldn't quite recall. "Max, is it really you? Oh God, please…"

Wait one second. He thought _I _was Max? Wasn't that the name of their dead friend?

In one last burst of me-ness, I snapped, "No, I'm not your precious _Max._" I spat the name out as if it caused me pain. "I'm number 410, enhanced human, here to kill you pitiful, so-called bird-kids." But by the end I was starting to sound rather faint, unsure.

Fang's grip shifted, his face blurring again as I slurred the last words, and I could almost taste the hesitant relief coming off him. What right had he to feel relief? As soon as I snapped out of this I was going to give him such a kicking…

His tone suddenly took on a sharp, commanding edge, the undertones of relief and worry not fading. "Max! I know you're in there somewhere. Listen to me. Remember, Max." I wasn't completely sure what I was supposed to remember. Or who this "I" was. But my vision was starting to clear again. Had it ever been clear before? Had it ever been blurry? "The flock, Max, the School, the Erasers, Jeb, the Voice," he winced briefly, "Germany, Nudge, Angel, Gazzy, Iggy."

I wasn't completely sure what was happening. All I knew was that my legs were starting to hurt, my wings were itching from the rough bark of the—_tree, I think it's called_—and this Fang person wasn't letting me sit down. Or wasn't letting me do something, I was sure. He certainly seemed very firm.

Swirls and random images, some real and some just confusing, flitted around in my mind. Why was I here? Where was I, in fact?

My vision that had started to clear disappeared again, this time into black as my eyes drifted shut of their own volition.

_I should open my eyes again. I don't think I like the dark. Or do I? Who _am_ I?_

"Max!"

_Is that who I am? Am I "Max"? Who said that? Oh, it's Fang._

In fact, Fang was about the only thing I could remember of all this. Someone called Fang. He was involved in whatever I'd just been doing.

_Which was what? Hunting? Escaping? Finding? Searchi—_

My random thoughts were abruptly halted as my brain short-circuited. A warm pressure on my lips was all that remained of the rapidly-disappearing world. The pressure grew more desperate and I was aware of arms enveloping me.

_FangFangFangFangFangFangFang—_

At that moment, my immediate thoughts were caught up in the wonderful sensation of Fang's lean figure pressed against mine, his lips claiming mine, me unable to respond. I didn't really mind, though.

I remembered the last time he'd kissed me I'd also just sat there, unmoving. But if I thought that went on and on—this was never going to stop. Dizziness started to wash over me in gently increasing waves but still Fang didn't let up.

Through the dizziness other memories came rushing back—the School, escaping, Jeb, escaping again, running, the brain attacks, the Voice, the school, the clones, the Itexes, the parents…

At once the pressure lifted and I started breathing deeply, oxygen rushing back through my body.

"Max," came a ragged gasp, ragged from more than lack of breath. "Max, please be you." As sensation returned to my body, still held up by Fang's strong arms, I noticed wetness on my cheeks. _I wasn't crying, was I?_

Fang! If I hadn't been crying before, I sure was now. My eyes flew open to see Fang, eyes reddened, barely visible in the half-set moonlight, clinging to me, barely upright.

I launched myself at him though I was already in his embrace, throwing my arms around his neck and causing him to stumble backwards.

"Fang!" I cried, not bothering to lower my voice. Tears streamed down my face as I clung to him at least as fiercely as he clung back. Trying to regain control of myself, I spoke through choking sobs. "Oh my God, I thought I'd never see you again, but I'm here…Oh God, Fang, I almost killed you!"

At this point my knees finally gave out and I collapsed, Fang barely holding me up until he sank to his knees, too, me still in his arms.

"Wouldn't have worked. You wouldn't have let yourself," he said matter-of-factly, idly smoothing the hair away from my tear-streaked face.

"But I wasn't me," I whispered, loosing one arm from Fang's grasp to finger the scar behind my ear, tears still streaming though I'd managed to get the instant hysterics under control.

"You were, you are," Fang said simply, drawing me onto his lap. "Except the part of you that thought you could outmaneuver me." His sudden grin lit up the forest.

I started laughing through my tears, burying my face in his neck again. I had to get myself under control before I saw to the flock—the flock!

Reading my mind, Fang said, "If they slept through that racket, I'll be amazed. They should be here any second."

"I was going to kill them, too…" I said faintly, my gut clenching at that rejected thought.

"No, you weren't. Hold onto your memories; hold onto you."

"Seems to me you're doing plenty of that for the both of us," I said, almost surprised at how easy the sarcasm came back, ragged and out-of-breath though it sounded.

"Problem with that?"

I didn't bother answering, just drew back from Fang slightly before leaning in again. I tried to remember how long the other kiss lasted—I was determined for this one to be even longer, my senses going haywire in the electric moment our lips touched.

The memories would always be there—the fake ones, the manipulated ones. But the good ones were back, too, and as I heard faint cries of "Max? Was that Max?!" I knew everything was going to be ok—as ok as it ever got, and to me that's as close to perfect as it can get.


End file.
